


Ron Anderson Has a Secret ( Carl x Ron )

by RueKagamine007



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gay Male Character, Inspired by The Walking Dead, M/M, Walkers (Walking Dead)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5913781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RueKagamine007/pseuds/RueKagamine007
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starting during episode 5 of season 6 of The Walking Dead, the tension between Carl Grimes and Ron Anderson grows even further when Carl asks Ron to help him find Enid. Ron gets angry. Enid is his girlfriend! Shouldn't he be the one wanting to go save her? Maybe even be the one who asks Carl to help him? </p><p>No. That wouldn't reflect the truth Ron has been trying so desperately to keep hidden. How can he hide it from him any longer, he wonders? </p><p>In frustration, he pushes Carl, the action leading to a strangely intimate relationship with the one who's only been trying to help him since he met him, though through condescending lenses. </p><p>He pushes Carl and Carl pushes him to the ground.</p><p>Based on Episode 5, Season 6 of The Walking Dead</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Back Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl and Ron get into a fight.

Ron was leaning against the porch of his house thinking about the aftermath of the attack on his home, Alexandria. During the attack, his girlfriend, Enid, hopped over the wall surrounding the town and ran off somewhere. Was she going to come back? With all the walkers surrounding Alexandria right now, would she even be alive? Did Ron even care?

No. He didn't, he supposed. He had told that introverted young woman not to leave the town. It's just too dangerous out there where walkers and people are trying to kill you.

They had good food, luxurious houses, and people of different talents inside the walls. All the people were working together to shelter each other from the world. At least, all of those people including Ron were sheltering each other until Carl and his group came along.

Stupid Carl and his stupid father. The father who had killed his own. Ron was bitter about this, but he knew deep inside that, under the circumstances, Rick had no choice but to kill his dad. He killed the mayor's husband, after all. And he had beaten his mom and Ron on multiple occasions. Pete, Ron's father, was the reason that Ron couldn't raise his left arm too high. He had been bitter about that, too.

He knew that it had to happen. He knew that and was trying to accept it. But then Rick comes along and tries to convince Ron to learn how to use a gun? And Rick wants to teach him? What an insensitive asshole. Ron couldn't stand Rick at all and he could barely stand his son, Carl. Yet he was drawn to him.

He wanted so badly to just punch Carl in his smug, condescending, vexed face. So what if Carl was more grown up than he was? So what if Carl, who didn't appear to have any muscle, could protect himself and others while Ron couldn't? While Ron couldn't and didn't do anything to protect his mother when Pete would beat her?

That bothered Ron. He was not going to let a repeat of what happened during the attack happen again. No way was he going to let Carl protect him.

He let the recent memory play over again in his mind for the third time. He was chased by one of those people who invaded the town when he heard a gunshot. When he looked behind himself, he saw the invader on the ground with a bloody circle on his leg, which he was holding. Carl approached the man on the ground with a large gun in his hands. It was Carl who had saved his life.

It was Carl who then shot the man when he tried to grab the gun from Carl's hands.

"Go inside," Carl said. "I can keep you safe." Ron moved his spiteful gaze from the stoic Carl to Enid who was on the porch of the house Carl wanted Ron to head into. He was protecting her, too. Might have saved her life, too. Ron should be the one protecting her. He should be the one protecting Carl, he thought.

He couldn't stand it. He refused to let that memory play out in his head any further. He would just lean against the house and focus on the sky until something happened or maybe until someone noticed him standing there.

He wouldn't think about how Carl made him feel weak and insignificant, or rather, how he pointed out how actually weak he was. He swore to himself that he'd punch Carl in the face if it was the last thing he ever did.

And, as Ron secretly hoped, Carl walked up to Ron to speak with him. Carl looked calm and cool, as usual. His chestnut hair was draped on either side of his face like open curtains displaying a clear window. If only Ron could see through Carl's face to his emotions like he could see through a window. Things might be a little easier. What kind of things, he didn't let himself think about.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Carl asked. Was Carl really worried about him? How could he worry about Ron when he had been trying to steal Enid away from him for days? Whether he did genuinly care or not, he wasn't going to let his feelings or his thoughts show.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Ron replied. Carl furrowed his brows. He would have to reproach the conversation.

"Have you seen Enid?" He asked, attempting to speak calmly with him. So he was thinking of Enid.

"Not since I saw her with you," Ron uttered. Carl took notice of the tone Ron used. It was not a friendly tone at all.

"I think she went over the wall just before the herd came and now she's trapped out there," Carl said. Of course Carl would say that. He was truly only worried about Enid, not Ron. Ron had seen the chemistry between the two of them and that infuriated him. He couldn't hold back all his rage.

Ron asked,"What makes you think she isn't dead?" This irritated Carl. How could he just give up so easily?

"C'mon, man," Carl said. Ron just relaxed himself and didn't say anything. Carl scoffed. "Look, I'll go find her. I just need your help! If you maybe climb up-"

"I'm not helping you, Carl," Ron said firmly. How did he not care about her? She was a living person, that being reason enough to go find her, but she was also his friend. Clearly that relationship didn't mean much to him. Maybe he needed to be reminded.

"This isn't for me, it's for Enid. Your friend," Carl reasoned.

"My girlfriend. Or, I mean, 'cause she was, anyway, right?" Ron said, making his motives for not helping Carl very clear.

So that's what it was really about, Carl decided. Ron didn't like how close Carl and Enid were, even if they weren't actually that close. The fact that they both came into Alexandria from the outside might be something Ron used to delude himself into thinking that Carl liked Enid or that Enid liked Carl.

"So you want to just leave her out there?" Carl asked, even though the question's answer was obvious.

"I told her to stop going over the wall. I told her there's bad people out there and that it's stupid and dangerous," Ron said in attempt to justify his not helping to find Enid.

"Not if," Carl said,"you know what you're doing." Ron scowled at the son of Rick Grimes. He surely meant to say that Ron was weak and stupid. That's exactly what he implied. And, what's worse, Ron knew that he was right. He couldn't defend himself from that statement any better than he could defend himself from that invader.

"Well, I'm not gonna let you go," Ron said. Carl sighed and turned around. Ron's lanky build wasn't going to stop Carl anytime soon. "Carl," He said again. The young man paid his words no heed. "Carl, you're not going out there!" Ron grabbed Carl's arm and Carl turned around, his patience almost fully depleted.

"Back off!" He said with a heave of his arm, shaking Ron's grasping hand off of him. That was his final warning. Ron pushed Carl.

How dare he push Carl, who was only trying to help Enid and had been very calm and reasonable with Ron this entire time! It was Ron who had started off with an ungrateful tone and he who had denied to do the right thing. It was he who had been against Carl and anything he did right from the beginning.

Carl couldn't take anything else from this pathetic, sheltered teenager. He charged at him and pushed him back. Ron held his ground for a moment, but only a few seconds later, he was on the soft grass, thanks to Carl.

Ron supported his upper half on his elbows and looked up at Carl. He shouldn't have pushed him. Even he could admit that was wrong and stupid. Carl was obviously stronger than he was, even though he didn't physically look to be strong. He knew what he was doing, especially when it came to defending and attacking. He was smart, too.

He could especially confirm these theories by just looking at the righteous anger in Carl's light blue eyes, coming from above himself. The anger faded, however, and Carl turned around again. He had either forgiven him, or decided he wasn't worth his time.

"I'll tell your dad. He'll go out there to find you, then other people will, too. And then somebody's gonna die." This stopped Carl and he turned around in disbelief.

Even as Ron panted a bit from the brief fight and from the audacity of his words and the surprising cleverness in them, he added something to his previous argument.

"You saved my life and now I'm saving yours," Ron said. There was no smugness in his voice. He was not being spiteful at this moment. He was genuine and truly believed he was doing Carl a favor, as well as himself, but that was irrelevant.

This baffled Carl. He truly couldn't do anything to help Enid, now. If he had just never asked Ron to help him, he might be able to do something. Now, he was definitely confined to the town and Enid would have to find her own way back, if she was coming back.

Carl sighed and let go of his disparage of Ron. While he knew he was physically weaker than himself and had questionable morals due to tyrannical emotions, he had formed some respect, if only a little, for Ron. He was showing a growing understanding of how things worked in the world as it really is. Being able to adapt and learn are two very valuable traits to have.

Maybe he'd become a useful ally to Carl. Maybe he'd even be willing to be friends. He hoped they could become friends.

He thought, when he first arrived in Alexandria, that he actually might be able to have friends of his own age for once. Once he got to meet them, the other three teens, he realized that only Enid knew about the outside world.

He thought that she would be the only good candidate for forming a long-lasting friendship with, but he soon found out that she was incredibly introverted and didn't listen to anyone. Whatever she wanted to do, she'd do it.

This is a very dangerous trait, he learned. He used to be like that, so he would know. He moved on to the other two teens to befriend.

Out of the two, Ron stuck out the most. He seemed very kind and inviting, enough so that Carl was willing to try playing video games for the first time in years. Things actually went good for a while.

Once the misconception of Carl's feelings towards Enid and Ron came about, Ron started steering away from Carl. This made Carl feel dissapointed and indifferent. He really liked seeing Ron around Alexandria.

He didn't like fighting with Ron. He wanted to grow close to him. He was drawn to him, probably because he was the first person who showed real potential for being his peer. Someone he could talk to who had to grow up the same way he did.

He liked being around him and he was slow to admit that he talked with Enid about Ron a few times in attempt to find out more about him. He truly did want to be his friend, if not more.

For now, Carl decided to leave their conversation and head back to his house. There was nothing else he could do and he supposed that Ron didn't want to speak with him anymore, anyways. He probably wished he could put Carl on the ground. Carl was sure that that's what he really wanted in this moment. It'd be best to leave and let him cool off.

He started walking away with a twinge of sadness in his mind when he heard Ron stand up behind him. Ron grabbed Carl by his shoulder, though there was something much gentler in his grasp than before.

"Carl..." He said. Carl turned around again and looked over Ron's unreadable face, trying to figure out what he was thinking and feeling.

Ron's expression was softer, though still strained, and his eyes darted between Carl's. Carl waited for Ron to say something or to do something, but the silence stayed.

Ron wondered if he'd regret this later, but he had to do it. He had to do it if it was the last thing he ever did. He raised a hand to Carl's face, causing Carl to flinch a bit, and leaned in as he pressed his lips against Carl's.

The kiss was petite and innocent and helplessly sweet, but only lasted about three seconds before Carl pulled his lips away from Ron's.

All Ron could register was the look of pure shock that was painted all across Carl's face. His mouth was dropped slightly and his brows were pointed to the sky.

Ron took a step back from Carl while still looking into his crystal blue eyes. He was sure that the kiss was the biggest mistake he'd ever made, and that was really saying something.

"I'm sorry..." Ron said before turning on his heel and jumping up onto the porch of his house and running inside.

Carl, now alone, turned away from the house and brought the tips of his fingers to his soft lips. He really had just been kissed by Ron.

Only moments ago he was positive that Ron was furious with him and would never want to befriend him. Now, well, things were very different.

He was once again reminded that things weren't always as they seemed and just because he thinks something is true doesn't mean it is.

Last time he had come to this realization, he almost got eaten by a walker, and his shoe was left behind. He did get a bucket of chocolate pudding, though. That was alright, though he hated pudding now.

He had to learn that he couldn't make it on his own for long. He needed his father and he needed other people, too. And they needed him. He used to be very vindictive towards his father, but then he thought for just a moment that his father had turned. He was so glad that he was wrong about that.

He was also glad about his false suspicions in this case. He knew now that he didn't have to go to great lengths to convince Ron to befriend him. He also knew that Ron found him attractive, in the least.

Now that he thought about it, he had been very inactive initially after the kiss. If he had acted sooner, maybe Ron wouldn't have run away.

Carl pulled himself onto Ron's porch and then walked inside his house. He went upstairs to where he saw Ron head off to.

Upstairs, he searched for Ron. He saw that one of the doors that connected each room to the hallway was open. He looked through the doorway and saw Ron looking out of his window with his hands fidgeting through his own hair.

"Ron," Carl said, startling his friend who didn't turn around,"Meet me at the house the next to mine, on the left, after the sun sets." Ron turned around, but Carl was already heading out of the house. He had lost his nerve and couldn't face Ron yet, not so personally, so he would have to be taken by surprise tonight.

Carl was in between his house and the house to the left for hours after the kiss. He took blankets to the attic of the house and even moved an armchair to the attic to sit in while he waited. He spent some time on his porch with Judith to calm himself, but for the remainder of his day, he sat patiently in the attic and read.

Ron was much busier throughout the remainder of his day. He didn't know if Carl was mad; he didn't sound angry, but he was still a little worried. That was surely the understatement of the year.

He was so scared to see him that night after sunset, like Carl told him to. He decided he needed to distract himself and he strolled through the town, even seeing Carl on the porch of his house with his sister, but he hurried along before he could spot him in search of Carl's father, Rick Grimes.

He spotted him atop the wall keeping watch over the herd of walkers that surrounded the town.

"Daryl, Sasha, Abraham, you copy?" He heard Rick say from above. It was now or never.

"Rick, can I come up?" He asked. Rick turned around and looked down at Ron. He didn't seem to be taken by surprise.

"Yeah," He replied. Ron climbed up the ladder with shaking hands, but he found that they were shaking less and less as he approached Rick. Despite the fact that Rick killed his abusive father and was a little more than strange, he didn't believe that Rick was evil.

Carl's dad was a strong man who cared about the people around him from what Ron could tell. He glanced over Ron in curiosity, but he returned his attention to beyond the herd. He had a job to do. Actually, he had more than one job. He knew this to be fact only to himself.

"You haven't seen it," He said to Ron, meaning the world of walkers. He wondered if that's why Ron came up the wall, to see the herd that threatened his way of life, his family and friends, and his own existence. It couldn't be just that, though. Rick didn't think Ron truly realized what was at stake.

"No. Enid, she, uh, she used to sneak over the walls, spend time out there. You know, I don't know why. She just wanted to.  
But, um I think she went out there after the attack," Ron said. He cursed himself for stumbling through his words so much.

"What, she's still out there?" Rick asked.

"Yeah. We don't know where she is. You know, but she knows how to take care of herself," Ron said to Rick. He didn't know if anything he said would be taken credibly. He really didn't know how to be strong and smart like Carl knew. "And we can't go out there. Carl wanted to try. I stopped him. I told him I'd tell you if he did. And then, um... I don't know. I just thought I should tell you."

"Do you know where he is now?" Rick asked, seeming unconcerned or overly calm. He made sure to keep some eye contact with Ron. He liked how much calmer and open Ron was since past times.

"Yeah, he's back at the house. I saw him on the porch with Judith. I can keep guard, if you want," Ron offered. He thought maybe Rick was so calm because he was tired.

"Down there, they're guarding the place now. This is just about keeping an eye out for the others that aren't back, looking for a sign from Glenn," Rick informed.

"All right," Ron said a little quieter than before. He didn't have much confidence to begin with, but he just felt strange now.

Rick quickly realized his mistake and added,"Thank you." Ron smiled a little at this. He didn't want to leave just yet. This surprised him. He didn't think Rick could be a nice guy, but he found himself to be wrong.

"So I was thinking about what you said back at the quarry. And, uh, I mean, you're right. I need to know how to protect myself and my mom and brother, this place. So can you teach me how to shoot?" He asked Rick. The herd of walkers seemed to growl louder at that question.

Rick took out the bullets from his own gun and handed the gun to the boy. He showed him how to hold it and then pointed to the herd below.

"There's your target," He said. Ron tensed up at the sudden pressure. He didn't know exactly what to do. "Just relax," Rick said. His calm demeanor took away all the nervousness. It's okay if he messes up because he'll learn and he knew that.

He was grateful that Rick was quick to forgive him. Maybe Rick didn't see their quarrel as that important in the grand scheme of things.

Carl sighed and pulled one of the blankets he had carried into the attic over his body. The anticipation was destroying him.

He had been reading a book called The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. It was published on September 14th, 2008, about four years before the apocalypse began.

He was actually quite interested in the world that the main character, Katniss, lived in. There were twelve districts across the northern American continent. She lived in district twelve.

The districts were all controlled by a place called the capital, which was surrounded by all the other districts.

Katniss and her family lived in a place where people were starving. The way she described the hunger was similar to how Carl had felt when he and his family went hungry.

She knew which greens to pick and where to look for them, unlike Carl. He wished he could find a book that would teach him how to find food. He smiled as he remembered farming with Rick. He hated doing it at the time, but he wanted to do that again, too.

Katniss was also a very good hunter. She used a bow and a quiver of arrows. Carl's first thought as to who in his life paralleled this was Daryl, but Daryl used a crossbow, not a regular bow. Carl wondered if he'd ever learn to use either of these weapons.

Katniss spotted a deer, in the book, and her first thought was to aim and fire an arrow at it. Carl remembered the first time he saw a deer. It was far different from her encounter, though she had seen deer before. This was, according to her, the first time she'd seen one in a long time.

Carl was so little then. He remembered that Shane was with him as well as Rick when it happened. It seemed so strange to think about Shane again. Did Rick ever think about him anymore?

The three of them had been in the woods nearby Hershel's farm, though they didn't know that at the time. Something was moving behind the foliage. It came out of the clearing slowly. It was a beautiful buck.

The boys stood in awe for a few moments. Shane raised his gun, but as Carl stepped forward, Rick whispered Shane's name, alerting him that he wasn't to kill the deer.

The much younger Carl Grimes slowly walked closer to the deer until he was just a few feet away from it. The deer noticed him, but didn't run away.

Carl smiled, having found a beautiful creature seemingly unaffected by the apocalypse. It filled him with a sense of hope and acceptance. The world hadn't ended, it just changed drastically.

He didn't get to look at it for that long, though he was glad for the time he got, before he was shot. Rather, the deer was shot and the bullet went right through its body and into Carl's.

Even after the shock and pain of the situation, he was glad that it happened. If he hadn't gotten shot, they might've never met Hershel, Maggie, or Beth. He really missed Beth and Hershel, too.

Who knows if he'd even be alive right now if he hadn't been shot. Glenn and Maggie might not have fallen in love. Glenn and Maggie had their own special, righteous purpose for living that Carl admired. They didn't have that sense of purpose until they found each other, though he supposed they were always loving and merciful at heart.

They had all changed so much since the apocalypse started. They all realized what really mattered to them, what they'd be willing to die to protect. Though Carl, as well as almost everyone in the Americas, hated the apocalypse, a strange and possibly disturbing thought occurred to him.

The apocalypse forced them all to grow immensely, learn how to cope with death and other major problems they were able to overlook before, learn how to get along with people they disliked or hated, or how to deal with those who refused to get along with them, and to appreciate everything they have and find and are given.

Carl was satisfied with how different he was than before. He had an aura of responsibility to him, he thought.

He was snatched out of his session of thought that he now thought was way too deep and provoked too many other thoughts as he heard a knock on the door downstairs.

He looked down at the book in his hands, realizing that he had stopped reading a while ago and would have to find out what would happen at the reaping later.

The door opened and then closed. Carl put a hand on his knife just in case it wasn't a friend that entered the house. After the recent infiltration, he was careful to not be taken by surprise.

"Carl?" He heard Ron call. He put his hands back in his lap and entwined his fingers together.

"I'm up here," He said in a normal volume. That just wouldn't cut it. "I'm up here!" He said much louder. Ron's footsteps grew louder and then stopped. "I'm in the attic." Ron continued moving.

Soon, Ron's head appeared from the hatch that led to the attic and Carl placed the book on the floor beside the chair he was sitting in.

Ron strode over to Carl, who didn't stand up, and the two just looked awkwardly at each other for a moment. Ron scratched the back of his head nervously.

"I, uh, was with your dad after our fight. He taught me how to shoot. Or, you know, gave me my first lesson," Ron said.

"That's good. What made you change your mind about learning?" Carl asked. "I thought you hated my dad."

"I do," Ron said. He put his hands on his hips and looked at Carl's feet. "I thought, after the attack, that, well... I guess I hated the fact that you could protect people we care about and I couldn't." Carl smiled in spite of himself.

He asked,"If you hated me so much, then why-"

"I don't hate you, Carl," Ron said. This shut Carl right up. He couldn't think of what to say. "I mean, I did. Not at first, but later when you and Enid went out of Alexandria. I hated that. But then I started watching you, trying to see what you and Enid were up to. I couldn't hate you.

"You were too much, you know that? I was so angry about it, too. You're smart, strong, brave, and you're experienced. And really handsome.

"A guy like that can't possibly do something so cruel, taking Enid away from me. You've probably had worse done to you, though, huh?" Ron asked.

Carl looked up at Ron and wondered what would happen if he talked about it. It might not have been the worst, though he didn't like to think about all the bad things that happened and had never decided what was the worst, but it was the most recent.

Carl said softly,"Before we came here, my family, my group, got separated. I was with my dad and Michonne. Daryl was with a group of bikers. We met up along the way because my dad killed one of theirs. He had to. The bikers didn't like us because of it, though. When they found us, the boss recognized my dad or something. He and his friend had guns pointed at Dad and Michonne.

"I was in our car, I didn't know what was going on until one of the bikers pulled me out of it and... he threw me onto the ground. He fell down on top of me and, as much as I struggled, I couldn't get him off. They made my dad watch, too. He turned me around and held me down. I heard him unbuckling his belt.

"I felt so powerless, so weak. And my family felt that way, too. Daryl tried to stop them, but the rest of their gang knocked him to the ground and just kept on kicking him. The man who was restraining me never got too far. My dad managed to bite the leader in the neck, which killed him. That scared me so much. My dad scared me a lot after that, but I knew that he only did what he did to protect me. He doesn't scare me anymore.

"The man picked me off the ground and held a knife to my throat as his friends were all shot in the head, one by one. He threatened my life. My dad approached him with such distaste and anger, the man pushed me forward and let me run to Michonne. He begged again for his life, but my dad stabbed him and killed him. It was one of the scariest nights of my life, and I've had a lot of those."

Ron looked down at Carl with wide, empathetic eyes. He had this idea in his mind that Carl and his group were so strong, they could overcome anything and anyone. They did, in the end, but there were more close calls than just the one Carl described. He felt so stupid, now. How could he be so damn stupid? No one is invincible.

"Carl, I'm sorry. I didn't know. You're family and you have gone through so much, and I don't even know that half of it. I don't even know what it might be like out there. There's so much evil in this world," He said. "I'm sorry I pushed you, too. It was stupid. The whole fight. I don't regret stopping you from going out, but I shouldn't talk to you like I did."

Carl stood up and took a step forward towards Ron. They were close to each other again. Carl put his hand out to shake. Ron looked down and smiled softly. A small huff of laughter escaped him. He shook Carl's hand.

"Why did you kiss me out there? I had no idea that you felt that way about me. That's why I didn't move, why I didn't say anything. I was just so shocked," Carl said. Ron turned away from his new friend, attempting to shield himself a bit. Carl put a hand on his shoulder and turned him around. "Ron," He said. "Ron, look at me."

Ron lifted his head and his eyes to meet Carl's. He saw the look in them. It wasn't dislike or disgust. He saw something else in those eyes. He, unlike Carl, had correctly predicted his friend's next move. Carl leaned forward and kissed Ron softly on his cheek. He had predicted it correctly for the most part, anyway.

"Carl, I'm so confused. What does this mean?" Ron asked. Carl gulped, though Ron didn't notice, and he leaned forward and kissed Ron on the lips this time. This kiss lasted much longer than the last. It was slow and almost unmoving. Ron couldn't quite wrap his head around it, especially when Carl put his hands on Ron's hips. The touch was too much for the two of them.

The two pulled away from each other, both too innocent to keep their cool. Carl sat back down and rested his chin on his clasped hands as he felt the heat in his face and the increased beating of his heart. He'd never felt this way before.

Ron knelt down in front of him and then sat down on the floor. Carl moved a hand to Ron's shoulder.

"I brought blankets. We could stay up here for the night, if you want to," Carl offered. Ron smiled and leaned his head back.

"Our families would worry about us. They'd be suspicious if we told them we'd both be here, too. No, we couldn't stay here overnight. It'd be too risky, y'know?" Ron said. Carl laughed softly yet clearly in response.

"I thought I was supposed to be the smart,  
responsible one? That's what you said, at least." Carl joked. "You talk as if you're nothing. I can tell you something, though. You're learning. You know you're in the wrong and you're changing. That is responsible, smart, and strong.

"It's so hard to admit you're wrong, to apologize, and to change. I'd imagine it'd be even harder to do all that in one day. Actually, I know it's incredibly hard to do all that in one day. I had that realization, too," Carl said. "I don't know exactly how brave you are, though I know you're not a coward. And you're really handsome, too."

"Why're you telling me all this?" Ron asked. "Do you pity me or something? Is that why you kissed me?" Carl moved to the floor and sat next to him. Ron folded his arms as he tried to hide his wandering eyes.

"No. I think you need to be confident to survive. Not too confident, but just the right amount. And it's not like I said anything that wasn't true," He said. "So, it's been dark for a while. I think we should get back to our families. Maybe we could talk some more tomorrow?" Ron looked over at Carl and smiled widely.

"Yeah. Let's do that," Ron said. He kissed Carl goodbye, on the cheek this time, and headed off to his house. As he got closer, a thought occurred to him. "Isn't is funny how so much can change in one day?"

Oh, if only he truly recognized the wonder, hopelessness, and truth that statement portrayed.


	2. Heads Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron has his first official lesson on guns and gets annoyed with Rick and Carl a little bit.

Carl sat up in his bed early in the morning. He had slept well and was completely energized for the day. It was only yesterday that he had gotten into a fight, however pathetic, and also gotten kissed. He smiled a little when remembering it. He let out a laugh just thinking about how dumb it all really was.

There was no time for love in this world, for Carl. That's how it had always been, though he hadn't always been around other teens. Maybe that was the real reason he never wanted it; it was never an option.

He had been around other kids in the prison, but most of them were younger and none were appealing. He remembered there was one kid with glasses who was incredibly geeky, even in the apocalypse. He was an unintentional kiss-ass, he always thought.

They were friends, but only just. He hung around him mostly because he was bored. People still didn't want him to grow up and learn how to fend for himself, which bothered him, so he couldn't do much there.

He still blamed himself, but if his elders had taught him how to survive in this world and showed him what was important, perhaps Dale wouldn't have died.

They had been pushing off talking about it. They had been ignoring him and dealing with other things that were more important, like that young boy whom Rick and Hershel brought back from the town near the farm.

Nonetheless, he knew now what they should've taught him then. He was matured. He also had an opportunity this time that really begged him to follow through with and he was very surprised at how it had all turned out.

His father wouldn't have a problem with him, he knew that for a fact. Rick had never been against any sexual preference. He loved Carl and would do anything for him. He risked his life countless times to give Carl opportunity in this rotting world. 

He would probably see both his father and Ron at the same time, today. Ron had started taking lessons from Rick, though he'd only had one so far, and so Carl decided he would join him and watch his progression.

He got up slowly and walked into Rick's room. It was fairly early and Rick was still asleep with Judith in the crib near his bed.

Carl checked on them early in the morning every day. He had since he and Rick thought they had lost Judith. He didn't usually attach himself to people, but he couldn't help but treasure his sister.

She was a symbol to Carl as well as someone to live for. She proved that new life was still possible. She would never know the world Carl knew, though he questioned whether or not he really knew that world, either.

He used to go to school and hang out with friends and play video games. Judith would never fully understand those experiences. Carl didn't get to do those things anymore, but he understood what life used to be like. He wondered who Judith would be without any knowledge of the world before.

He and Rick would teach her all they knew to keep her safe. Would she have similar revelations as Carl had in his recent years or would she understand who he was and why he was that way and then not have to go through the thoughts that he did?

If that was the case, what kind of revelations would she have if not that you can't be a child in this world? Would she even have to come to terms with such a concept? Would she even value such a childhood that she knew nothing about? He just didn't know. He, luckily, was very patient.

He left the room and went downstairs, already being fully clothed. He went to sleep like that, even with his shoes on. He wanted to be prepared for anything. 

The house was quiet, as usual. He heard birds chirping and a soft wind moving leaves just outside. These were sounds he had gotten used to easily. Life was either very quiet or very loud, nowadays. He preferred the quiet.

He walked outside and along the sidewalks near the perimeter. He saw some people on watch, though he didn't care to look long enough to find out who. He ended up walking a long way and found himself by Ron's house.

He sat down on the porch and looked up at the sky. He was often bored, though he enjoyed boredom. It was a luxury one would be glad to have now; he was glad to have it.

That's why he was so shocked about his sudden desire for excitement. He wanted to spend time with Ron before anything else happened, and something would always happen. So he waited for Ron to wake up. He was eager to see him. He hoped Ron would be eager, too, but he already knew that he was.

Ron woke up later than Carl. He got up and rubbed his eyes. Maybe, he thought, he'd go back to sleep and savor the safety he was surrounded by. He decided not. He'd rather oblige to be contented with Carl's safety, rather than the safety of his sleep.

He therefore stood up and headed to his dresser. He had slept in his boxer briefs and he wasn't about to go downstairs in those when his mother and younger brother might be awake, though Sam was still refusing to go downstairs. Ron wished he could have done something for Sam, but it was too late, now. Only time would tell if he could ever become strong, though Ron was no Rick Grimes himself.

He pulled on jeans and a white T-shirt before finishing off with a tan, long-sleeved, button-up shirt. He then remembered about his shoes and put those on.

He was ready to go downstairs, now, at the very least, which he then did as he ran his fingers through his hair; he was too lazy to properly brush it. He had a lesson today with Rick who promised to teach him how to shoot, so what did he care if his hair wasn't perfect?

He was glad that he would have to focus on shooting instead of the kiss that Carl instigated between the two of them. That thought crushed his stomach and chest in a satisfying and scary way. He could hardly breath as he thought about what had happened, the butterflies in his body forcing his lungs to temporarily collapse.

The house was a bit disproportionate when it came to temperature on this particular morning and Ron still felt a bit drowsy, so he decided to lay in the grass outside his house.

He stepped outside, not expecting much besides a cool, calm start to his day. He was surprisingly caught off guard when he saw Carl sitting on his porch; he hadn't mentally prepared himself for more interactions with this youth yet.

Carl turned around and smiled at Ron, who was heating up at the thought of talking to Carl again. He approached Carl, turned his body towards him, and then walked right passed him and towards the grass field by his house. Carl wasn't disheartened. He merely got up and walked the trail that Ron led. They both walked to the grass and they both laid down, Carl after Ron.

"You're very unresponsive this morning," Carl said. Ron took in a large, silent breath and closed his eyes. The morning sun was already risen from behind the earth, but it wasn't shining so brightly as to bother Ron through closed eyelids.

"Morning, Carl," He managed. Carl relaxed his bony back onto the soft ground and pulled his hat over his eyes. The greeting had been satisfactory for him.

"I didn't want to wait so long to see you. I hope I'm not bothering you," Carl said.

"No. I'm not bothered," Ron replied. Ron rolled onto his side and looked at Carl, who's face was covered by his obnoxious hat.

"Can I come with you when you take lessons today?" Carl asked.

"Yeah," Ron answered. He then raised the back of his hand to feel Carl's cheek. "You know, you're really soft. It kind of baffles me how someone like you can be so strong. Mind over body, I guess."

Carl smiled and moved his hat up to look Ron in the eyes. "You'd be surprised how strong you can become if you have the will."

Ron furrowed his brows and smirked a bit. "Give me an example; how did you find the will?" He asked. Carl moved his hat back above his eyes to shield them from the sun. He liked to see darkness when he closed his eyes, not orange. 

"Well... you remember how, before we came here, my group was split up? It was my dad and I, but he was badly injured and I was treating him so spitefully cruel. We thought Judith was dead, then.

"My dad was limping and he wanted me to slow down for him, but I wouldn't. We came across a bar and he told me to wait outside. I guess it was because of my age or something. Again, I refused.

"When we got inside, the owner of the place was walking around, though he was dead. My dad tried to kill him with his ax, but he was too weak. I had been looking at a note the owner left just before I saw that Dad needed my help. 'Do what I couldn't,' the note said. I shot the walker in its head, saving my dad's life.

"He did not thank me. Dad just told me that every bullet counts as if I handled the situation poorly. That really ticked me off.

"Later we found a house that my dad said was 'as good as any' and we searched it for food. He told me to watch my mouth. I was absolutely furious with him at that point. We live in the apocalypse and he was yelling at me for cursing. I still find that un-fucking-believable," Carl said calmly.

Ron started laughing and Carl gave him a confused look. "I like how you curse at the thought of your dad telling you not to. You're just so obedient."

Carl let out a concentrated laugh and then continued. "It was a really stressful time for us! The house was nice, though. I found a room upstairs that used to belong to a boy, maybe my age. It had been a weird experience for me. There were games and sports stuff and even a flatscreen. I thought about those items for a bit before I ripped out the cords from the TV and used them downstairs to lock the front door.

"Even so, Dad insisted that we move the couch in front of the door as another precaution, but I kinda took it the wrong way. I got mad and told him that I had already taken precautions and that my knot would suffice. I think I told him that Shane taught me how to make knots and bringing up Shane pissed him off because I sort of implied that he didn't miss him or care that he was dead."

"Who is Shane?" Ron asked. Carl hesitated, somewhat annoyed with himself that he had forgotten to explain who Shane was.

"Before the world went to shit, he was by dad's best friend and coworker; they were cops together. Afterwards, he was with my mom because we thought Dad was dead for about 6 months. Dad had to kill him," Carl said.

"He had to kill a lot of people, huh?" Ron asked. Carl nodded. He noticed the soft understanding that reflected from Ron's face. He was already a different person from yesterday, however faintly.

"After I brought up Shane, he tried to force me to eat. I refused that, too. I didn't want him ordering me around and treating me like a child like everyone had been doing since I was born and even more so after the start of all this.

"It's very counterproductive. You would think that they would've recognized that we can't afford to be children as long as we could before the walkers."

As Carl spoke, he recounted the memories. While those days were aggravating and scary, he did remember some good memories from them.

That next morning, after Rick moved that couch in front of the door, Carl went into the kitchen and found cereal, though stale, and ate some of it. Rick didn't know he was eating, after all. After that, he went upstairs and read a book. He completely forgot what it was about, but he mildly enjoyed it.

He did remember trying to wake up Rick, but he was unconscious. He found this out by yelling at him. He attracted walkers and almost got killed by a couple walkers that he was luring away from the house. He didn't care to recite that.

"Just a side note, don't ever walk backwards," He told Ron. "I yelled at Dad that day, too. He wasn't going to wake up soon, so I decided to tell him everything I was feeling and thinking. I said some heavy stuff and didn't remember most of it exactly. I know I blamed him for the death of everyone at the prison, though they weren't actually dead. Except for Hershel.

"The one thing I said that I recall perfectly was,'I'd be fine if you died.' That wasn't true, but Dad was in really bad shape and I was scared. I wanted to know that I'd be okay if I had to go on without him.

"I felt really good after I expressed myself, so I gathered up some gear and left the house we were holed up in. I chose another house to search for food and things.

"I'd like to point out that I also recognize how physically weak I actually am. I tried to throw my body at the front door to knock it down, but I'm not heavy at all and that obviously didn't work. Mind over body doesn't always work.

"I made it inside the house despite that and I searched it for goods. I almost got eaten by a walker that I found in the upstairs bathroom. He didn't get me, though. He only stole my shoe.

"I made it out to the roof of the house and ate a giant can of chocolate pudding that I'd found in the house. I think it was about 100 ounces or something. I hope I never have to eat chocolate pudding again," Carl said.

Ron closed his eyes and imagined Carl trying to a knock a door down; the result was a huge grin on his face.

"So, basically, you became strong because you knew you had to and maybe to spite your dad a little bit," Ron summed.

"Yeah. That's about it," Carl said. "Do you think the others will be up yet?"

"They might. Wanna go check? Maybe you're dad is ready for lessons already, just waiting for me, y'know?" Ron said.

Carl sat up and Ron followed. The two walked out from the grassy field and back to the streets towards Rick's house.

Ron looked around and made note that no one was up yet. He grabbed Carl's hand and looked at Carl's stoic face. He continued to stare at him and saw that, while Carl's expression didn't change, the coloring in his face did.

This satisfied Ron in a way he hadn't expected. Carl was an incredible actor. He could pretend he wasn't feeling anything at any time, but if one paid close enough attention, they'd truly understand how he was feeling.

Carl and Ron walked into Rick's house and Ron rushed to separate their hands, as Rick was in the living room holding Judith. It was from this action that Carl fully understood what Ron wanted: to secretly be with him.

At least he didn't want Rick to know. That was understandable. Rick killed Ron's father and forced him to go through his revelations, just like he had done with Carl. He didn't know the significance of it, but he noticed that both of them had originally progressed in spite.

Rick looked up and saw Carl and Ron standing by the front door. They must've made up, he thought.

"I was thinking you could give me a shooting lesson today," Ron said. Rick nodded and stood up with Judith in his arms. "Carl wants to come with."

"I'm going to drop Judith off at your mom's," Rick said. Then he left the house. Carl and Ron followed him out, but kept a bit of distance between them and Rick.

"Hey, Ron, what about Enid?" Carl asked. He had just remembered that she was still outside Alexandria. He felt like an ass for forgetting about her for romantic thoughts.

"What about her?" Ron asked back. This response caused Carl to stumble in his thoughts. Did he really not care about her? He thought he had just been stubborn with him before out of spite, but maybe he really didn't care?

"You know what about her. She's not back still," Carl said. He thought more about the conversation they had yesterday. Ron wouldn't let him leave to find her. He didn't want Carl to die while looking for Enid.

"She knows what she's doing, Carl. She'll make it back and she doesn't need our help to do so," Ron said. "I know that she might get in a tough bind, but if she wanted to be here, she would've stayed. Don't worry about her anymore. She doesn't worry about us and she got what she wanted."

Ron was right. Enid had left of her own will. As Carl had observed, she did whatever she wanted to get what she wanted and that is dangerous. He shouldn't risk himself for her unless he had to.

"Alright. I won't worry, then," Carl said softly. Rick knocked on the door to Ron's house and after a few moments it was opened by his mother, Jessie Anderson.

"Morning, Jessie. I was wondering if you could take care of Judith today? Carl and I are going to be busy," Rick said. She looked over at her son and Carl after acknowledging Rick. If Ron was going to be with Rick today, he'd be fine, she thought.

"Yeah, of course. I'm not doing much today," She said. Rick kissed Judith on her forehead and then handed her to Jessie. She already had a lot of baby essentials for Judith at her house because she takes care of her often.

"Thanks, Jessie," Rick said. She nodded and then went back inside her house. Rick stepped down from the porch and then the trio headed out towards the wall.

As they neared their destination, they saw Gabriel, who used to be a preacher, putting up a paper against a wooden wall that said,"Prayer circle by the solar panels today at 1:00." Carl looked at his father who approached the paper after it was put up, snatched it off the wall, and then crumpled the paper and threw it on the ground.

This act made Carl's stomach turn upside down. He wasn't religious in the slightest, though he supposed there could be a god of some sort out there; there were endless possibilities, sure, but this act reminded him of something he had done when he was younger.

As Rick mercilessly tossed the paper to the ground, and as Carl heard Gabriel scoff softly from behind him, he couldn't help but say,"Dad-" 

Back when his mother was still alive, and back when the people he knew hadn't really accepted or appreciated the fact that the threat of death surrounded them more than ever, so much so that they had believed that a little girl like Sophia could survive on her own for long, he said something terrible in an attempt to destroy his loved ones' optimism. 

They knew that Sophia was dead and Carol had approached Carl by the barn. He was looking at the ground, thinking about his old friend. He first met Carol and Sophia just as the apocalypse began. They were two children who grew up during the supposed end of times. One was less fortunate than the other and had gotten separated from the group and inevitably turned and died.

"You know, we'll see Sophia again in heaven someday. She's in a better place," Carol had said. She truly believed that, too. She took comfort in the fact that Sophia wasn't in pain anymore. She wasn't scared or alone; she was in heaven. Carl didn't really think about how she felt at all. That's why it was so easy for him to be so cruel to her.

"No, she's not," He said. "Heaven is just another lie. And if you believe it, you're an idiot." With that, he stormed off. Just thinking about that day made Carl flinch. He didn't want to make anyone feel like he made Carol feel like that ever again. 

Rick pulled him aside shortly after his conversation with Carol and confronted Carl about what he said. He told Carl not to speak when he tried to say again that heaven didn't exist. He told him to think instead. He explained that she just lost her daughter and she was trying to keep her alive somehow. It didn't matter if heaven was real or not because whatever kept her sane until she could accept the passing of her daughter and move on would have to suffice.

Carl felt a twinge of uneasiness in his chest for Gabriel. Gabriel had gone through hardships, too. He had been a terrible person, unlike Carol, but he had suffered, nonetheless. He deserved a second chance, or at least to not have his beliefs mocked. Beliefs didn't matter anymore, Carl decided. The only thing that mattered in the world he lived in were the people that shared life with him. If God was what kept Gabriel going, then let him believe.

Rick didn't respond to Carl's inescapable outburst of emotion, which didn't quite portray the intensity of guilt he felt. Somehow it was enough for Ron to notice for he placed his hand on Carl's shoulder and looked him in the eyes. Carl let it go at that. Gabriel carried on and they kept walking. They reached a place near the wall where there were tables.

"Handguns will be a little better for your first go," Rick said to Ron. "Magazine release... slide release... thumb safety." Rick demonstrated how to properly reload a handgun for Ron, who paid much attention.

"That stuff's easy, right Dad?" Carl asked. Rick looked away from the two boys for a moment to collect something from off one of the tables. It was just enough time for Ron and Carl to share a look. Ron deadpanned at a smirking Carl who was cockily making fun of Ron's inexperience with guns. Ron got to impulse to punch Carl again. He didn't like to be mocked in the slightest. As Carl noticed his friend's serious expression, he lost his smirk.

"Yeah. Empty magazine. The chamber, you see it?" Rick asked Ron. He looked where Rick was pointing him to and saw the chamber. He would be damned if Carl thinks that he would have to protect him still. Yesterday was incredible and unexpected, like a dream, but his bitterness still remained in the end. He had mixed feelings and he was only sure that he would need to focus on learning about guns at the moment.

"Yeah," He muttered. Rick walked a bit away from him and raised an open hand towards the wall.

"If someone is in front of you- they have a gun-" He started to tell Ron.

"You're gonna be scared," Carl said. Ron gave him a defying look. "You will be." Ron merely blinked at Carl. He was beginning to rethink his choices, now. Would Carl always be like this? Would he always mock him in this way? If so, perhaps he couldn't get along with him after all. He pushed that thought aside. He had to stop degrading Carl, if he'd ever stop degrading anyone.

"Things get intense; you won't have time to think. You're just gonna wanna pull the trigger when you get it in front of you," Rick said. He raised his gun, but he hesitated. "But you'll miss. And you'll be dead. You have to get it up to your eye."

"You gotta be strong enough to wait for you bullet," Carl told Ron. Ron looked at Carl even longer this time and then at his chest. He wanted to push him to the ground again. Once he learned how to properly use a gun, he wouldn't have to humble himself to Carl or Rick.

"Can I, uh-" Ron said to Rick. The man handed the handgun to Ron and he raised his arms to aim it, rolling his shoulders before hand to make sure he didn't hurt himself. He always took such precautions, ever since his father permanently damaged his body.

"Hey-" Rick said as he moved Ron's fingers,"your finger doesn't touch the trigger until you're ready to shoot." Ron hesitated again, thinking about how he kept doing the wrong thing and giving opportunities to Rick and Carl to patronize him about how ignorant he is. He sighed quietly and then began to aim the gun again. He pulled the trigger and heard a little click. The gun wasn't loaded, of course, but he knew that.

"Keep that one with you. 'Gotta feel what it's like to carry one around," Rick said as he picked up his own gun from one of the tables. Ron calmed at that. Rick trusted him enough or thought he was good enough with the gun to keep it.

"Can I shoot it? I mean, like, at one of the walkers?" He asked. Rick looked passed Ron with a scowl on his face and Carl witnessed what he had witnessed before: the disapproving look Rick liked to give to Carl when he said or did something without thinking. He grew nervous about Ron. He knew how he felt towards his father and he didn't want him to explode like yesterday, though Ron seemed to be calmer.

"No. With things how they are- the walls are strong, but we're lucky the walkers are spread out. We don't want to pull 'em all in one spot."

"Well, what about, like, target practice in the center of town? 'Cause then the sound'l spread out in each direction." Rick gave the same disapproving look he'd given before and Ron felt even more embarrassed. "But, uh... we probably don't wanna waste bullets, right now." Rick nodded. Ron understood that, at least. "I just wanna learn more." 

Carl smiled softly and said,"You will." Ron looked up at Carl and the two shared another look, this time a more kind and content gaze. Carl smiled halfway and Ron returned the gesture. Rick looked back and forth between the two, trying to figure out exactly what happened between the time after their fight and today. Ron had talked to him only yesterday about that fight that he had gotten into with Carl about Enid. How could they have made up so fast? Perhaps Ron and Carl were better with not holding grudges than he was.

"Why don't you two run along. I've got other things to do today," Rick said after giving up on trying to read the silent words exchanged through their smiles. Carl headed off back towards his own house and Ron followed him. Rick watched them walk away and then headed off as well.

"You did pretty good back there. I think you learned a lot," Carl said. Ron rolled his eyes and smiled. Condescending praise is still praise, he supposed. "You're getting there. You'll be able to protect the people you care about, soon."

"Like you," Ron said. Carl flinched a little in surprise at these words, but he quickly understood that he should have expected that from Ron. He would have, too, if he had spared the time to think about it.

"Yeah, well, we can protect each other. We can't really do much on own own," Carl said. Ron frowned and turned his face away from Carl's line of sight. He didn't want Carl to protect him ever again. He didn't want to owe Carl anything, even if Carl would never see it that way. He'd never think of who owed who. Even so, Ron wanted Carl to owe his life to him.

He knew he shouldn't be thinking this way because it could get him killed. He didn't have time to be dominant over anyone. He had to focus on learning what he needed to learn in order to stay alive. He needed to be able to protect himself before he could worry about protecting others.

"Hey, Ron, are you alright?" Carl asked. Ron looked at him and forced a smile.

"Yeah. I think I'm going to go, though," He said to Carl. Carl furrowed his brows slightly. Ron probably just needed time to think over what he learned. He was likely also nervous and embarrassed by how things went during practice. He noticed the interactions between Ron and Rick and it made him uneasy. Ron had said before that he hated Rick. 

"Okay, sure," Carl said. He expected some physical affection or at least some casual words, like goodbye, to make their parting from each other official, but Ron merely turned from Carl and headed off somewhere. Carl didn't know exactly what to do with himself now. He just kept heading towards his house.

Ron suspected that Carl would be somewhat suspicious of him, but he didn't really care enough at this point in time. He wanted to be able to protect himself from anything that could harm him. He would do whatever it took to get what he wanted. He didn't think he could be happy unless things went his way and he knew things wouldn't go that way unless he worked to make it so.

He passed houses and people until he reached the armory. He snuck inside to where all the food was stored. He knocked over a few cans of food and then hid behind one of the shelves. A stout woman walked into the room in response to the noise.

"Oh, crap," She said before sighing loudly. Ron took his chance and walked through to the hallway from behind the woman and made a left into the armory. There were so many guns and weapons, but he didn't have any urge to take those. He instead picked up a box of ammo for the kind of gun he carried and he held the bullets in his hand.

He looked over his shoulder to make sure he hadn't been caught then he put the bullets in his pocket. He rushed out of the building before the woman from earlier could spot him. 

Ron thought over what he learned and loaded his gun with the bullets he stole. He would become better than himself. He would be better than his father and he would protect his family. Carl would not protect him again.

He saw Carl walking on the pavement a few yards ahead of him and he held his gun closely by his side. A thought came to his mind that he hadn't anticipated. He could just shoot Carl right now. He had the ability to kill him, if he so wished. And did he wish for that?

He started following Carl as he contemplated it again. He wanted to kill him yesterday. He wanted to kill Rick, too. Sure, things would be great if they could just exist together, but things change so quickly. Who's to say things won't change again?

A loud creaking sound pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked to the wall where the noise came from and saw a tower falling inwards towards Alexandria. The tower collapsed onto the ground, crushing part of the wall as it did so. He fucking jinxed himself, he was sure. 

As he heard the hoard he witnessed yesterday approaching, another thought entered his mind. This was his chance to prove he could protect Carl. If he could do that, he wouldn't have to kill him. If he could protect Carl, he wouldn't feel inferior anymore. He followed after Carl and the others to get to safety inside a building. He would prove himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you have any ideas or tips for me in regards to this story!


	3. Meltdown

"Get into your houses, go!" Rick yelled. Ron held his gun closer to himself as Carl, who didn't know of his presence, rushed over to the closest house: Ron's house. Ron followed him. Once inside the house, Rick and others rushed upstairs with Deanna and helped her onto a bed. She was bleeding heavily. Jessie rushed into her youngest son's room and turned off the music that had been playing since that morning.

Sam was in a panic in response Jessie's. She looked at Sam and knew she didn't have much time to spare to calm him.

"It's gonna be okay, okay?" Jessie said to Sam. "Honey, just- just try. Just pretend, okay? Just pretend that you're somebody who's not scared. Just try." She placed her hand on his shoulder and smiled faintly.

Sam looked into her eyes with a blank expression, making her anxiety peak. Contrary to his face, he was feeling an intense variety of emotions. He was confused and scared, but not sure why. Though the dangers of the world were clear to everyone else, the idea of getting bit by a walker, or a monster as Sam called them, was ambiguous and unfamiliar to the young boy. He often thought of what Carol told him. She said if he didn't behave that she would tie him to a tree and leave him there to be eaten. And no one would hear him scream. This terrified him. He didn't know how to react. Thankfully, he at least had the advice of his mother to heed. Just pretend you aren't scared. Don't be scared.

"Okay," Sam said back. A relief filled Jessie, even though many dangers still existed. She loved her son, but she was at a complete loss at what to do with him. She was so overtaken with the fear that she would lose him because he was too young to understand anything going on. But she wouldn't have to worry about that at the moment.

"Okay. I love you," She said and then walked away to help Rick.

Sam replied,"I love you." He shut his door.

"Ron?" Carl called as he entered the garage. Ron was leaning over a tool station. "Hey, you all right, man?"

"Enid's dead. We're all dead," Ron said he said quietly.

"Look, my dad's gonna figure something out. He always does," Carl said, trying to reassure him.

"That's bullshit! Your dad's just gonna get more people killed," Ron said as he turned around and approached Carl. "Cause that's what he does. That's what he is. Your dad's a killer." Carl noticed a tear falling down Ron's scared face.

"So was yours," Carl reminded him, spite and annoyance filling him for a moment. Ron dropped his jaw in disbelief. He hated Rick and his own dad, whom both killed people. "We need to work this out."

Ron whispered back slowly,"I'm dead, Carl. My mom is dead. My brother is..."

"No, they're not. We're gonna make it," Carl said. He needed Ron to keep a level-head, but he knew that since this was probably the first invasion he had ever been part of, naturally he would freak out and be scared. Ron walked passed him and stood right in front of the door Carl entered from.

"Your dad- you're dead, too. We're all dead," He said as he locked the door. Carl watched Ron turn his hand by the door and his stomach twisted. Ron put the key to the door in his back pocket. Carl didn't move. Maybe Ron just wanted privacy between them to be guaranteed. In his mind, he had little time left. Still, Carl felt his heart pump harder and harder and his breath was more noticeable. He felt adrenaline energize him. His body clearly wasn't giving Ron the benefit of the doubt. And as Carl saw Ron reach for a gun on his hip, he knew his body was right in forcing him to be alert.

He ran at Ron and tried to pin him against the door. Ron had a gun in his hand pointed at Carl's head, but Carl pushed his arm back and Ron pulled the two of them into a collision with a shelf. Both of them fell onto the ground. Rick's hat fell off of Carl's head, taking away something that gave him a bit of security. He didn't have time to grab it, though, as Ron picked up a shovel and headed towards a window. Carl tried to stop Ron, but the window was broken just before he reached it, the sound alerting strolling walkers nearby. Not only walkers, but Rick and Jessie.

"Carl!" Rick called from the other side of the locked door.

"Ron!" Jessie yelled alongside Rick. Ron didn't care to respond to either of these calls. Instead, he took the shovel in his hands and pressed it against Carl's throat. Carl had to push his body towards Ron and his neck against the shovel handle to avoid being pushed onto the broken glass and out of the window where walkers were nearing. Carl moved part of his body onto the wall to relieve some tension, but this only enabled Ron to choke him even easier.

"Carl! Let me in! Carl!" Rick yelled.

"Ron! Ron, open the door right now!" Jessie screamed.

"Back up," Rick said to Jessie. He grasped his hatchet in his hand and broke the lock on the door. If Carl wasn't opening the door for him, clearly he couldn't and Rick would sooner shoot himself than let anything happen to Carl. Not to mention Ron was presumably in trouble, too, though he was more concerned about his own son.

Ron heard the door being opened and hesitated in his actions. Carl pushed Ron forward due to this just before a walker stuck its head through the window. Carl grabbed a shelf from the adjacent wall and moved it in front of the window as Ron stared blankly at the walker trying to get to him. His heart was pounding. He looked to his left and remembered about his gun, the one he stole. Rick was entering the room and he grabbed it quickly before Rick could see it.

"Come on!" Rick said. Carl and Ron both ran through the door, Carl grabbing his hat, as walkers broke into the room. Rick shut the door and ran to get furniture to hold the door, which now could not be locked. Jessie, Ron, and Carl held the door in place until Rick came back with a couch to block the walkers with. It wasn't enough.

"We need more, and we need to be quiet," Rick said.

Michonne replied,"I'll see what I can find."

"Me, too," said Gabriel. Gabriel had been holding down the couch, but Jessie took his place so he could help Michonne.

"Hey, what happened in there?" Rick asked Carl.

"We were looking for tools and knocked over a shelf," Carl lied.

"We heard yelling," Jessie stated.

"Yeah, Ron saw them break through the gates. We had to move," Carl lied again. "That's what happened."

"Carl," Ron said,"there's nightstands in my mom's room. We can brace the couch with them."

"What?" Carl asked. He had been trying to help Ron, lying for him, and Ron was helping him out by addressing the problem at hand, but he was annoyed at Ron's sudden willingness to help. He had just tried to murder him.

"Hey, it sounded like you were fighting," Jessie said. Carl mentally rolled his eyes. He knew it was petty, but he hated the way Jessie spoke. Probably because her mom-esque choice of words and phrasing reminded him of his mom. He wanted her to be quiet more than the walkers when she questioned him like that.

"Yeah, but we were fighting them," Ron said, lying along with Carl's story. Then he headed to another room expecting Carl to follow him, apparently. Carl let go of the couch.

"Carl? It's okay?" Rick asked his son softly. He trusted him, especially now after all they'd been through. He didn't exactly believe what the two boys were saying, but if Carl said everything was fine, everything would be. Rick looked Carl in the eyes, searching for any discrepancy within them.

"It's okay," Carl told him. Then he followed after Ron to a room where they could be alone again.

"Listen, I, uh-" Ron started as Carl shut the door. Carl pulled out his gun and cocked it.

"Hand me the gun, grip first," Carl ordered. He was furious with Ron, even though he had just covered up for him. He didn't really have a choice. He saw himself in Ron, what with the varying levels of hope and anxiety and the bursts of emotion.

"Carl, I'm sorry," Ron said. He didn't move a muscle.

"Yeah, I know. Now give me the gun," Carl demanded once more, his voice devoid of any pity. Ron nodded and handed his gun carefully over to Carl. "Look, man, I get it. My dad killed your dad, but you need to know something: your dad was an asshole."

Carl knew he had to get through to Ron somehow, but that didn't take away his nerves. Ron lifted his chin up in order to look down at Carl as he thought. Ron had panicked back there. He was glad Carl did what he did. And he was upset with himself yet again. He frowned freakishly.

"You're right. You're always right," Ron said bitterly. "I'm sorry." He moved over to the corner of the room and leaned against the wall.

"Why do you do these things? What do you hope to gain from it?" Carl asked as he moved closer to Ron.

"I just want you beneath me!" Ron admitted. He hated that Carl was stronger than him and he hated his father and he hated himself. He would never be stronger than Carl and he'd just have to accept that. But he couldn't! He wanted so badly to be better and stronger and smarter than Carl. Carl is desirable because of who he is, but who he is also makes it impossible for Ron to relate to him. Carl would always be better. And Ron would always be bitter, he thought.

He gasped softly and cocked his brows when Carl wrapped his arms around Ron's neck and rested his head on his chest. "What're you doing?" Ron asked.

"You said you wanted me beneath you and so I am. If that will calm you, then I'll do it. You need to chill out," Carl said. Ron scoffed and yet he also wrapped his arms around Carl and then turned his body to press Carl into the corner. He brought his hand to Carl's face and forced his way into a mutually consensual kiss. There was nothing innocent about this kiss, unlike previous times, and that was proven to be factual when a strange, pained noise came from Carl's throat. He forced that sound out in protest. Obviously he was still very upset that Ron had tried to kill him, though Ron's apology had calmed him, he was not about to start kissing him. Ron pulled his lips away.

"It would calm me if you would kneel before me," Ron said nervously yet firmly. Heat rushed to Carl's face and it was his turn to scoff. Did he seriously just ask him to- After what just happened, he thinks Carl would trust him enough to put himself in a possibly dangerous position like that? Would he try to kill him again? Did he want to get some action in before he died?

Carl didn't exactly know what Ron's deal was, but after Ron placed his forearms on the walls beside Carl's head, he fell onto his knees to comply with Ron's wish as opposed to having his face be so close to Ron's. His physical gestures of affection, romantic or not, seemed to have calmed Ron down, that he could tell by Ron's facial expression, no longer scared or devoid of emotion.

"I'm just really conflicted," Ron said.

"About what?" Carl asked as he placed his hands on Ron's hips. He had felt awkward when his arms were merely at his side as he was on his knees.

"I'm in love with you, but I hate how much better than me you are at everything. You know, sometimes I just want to hurt you," He said. He couldn't believe he had told Carl that.

"You really think you can hurt me?" Carl asked himself more than Ron. "You can't dwell on things like this. It doesn't matter. You're alive and you need to progress quickly to stay alive. Don't compare yourself to anyone. If you know what you need to know and can do what you need to do, then you're as good as you need to be."

Ron turned the words of advice over in his mind before kneeling down to face Carl. Carl did all he could to not let his embarrassment show. Carl's unmoving hands, added with Ron's moving body, resulted in Carl's fingers snagging onto Ron's shirt. This momentarily lifted Ron's shirt, revealing a bit of his stomach, but Carl quickly retracted his hands from Ron's body. Ron did not notice as he was embarrassed that he shared his true thoughts. And ones he had never spoken aloud, on top of that. He looked at Carl, who had done the same and stared right back. He buried his face in Carl's neck.

"You're right," Ron said again. Carl held Ron and rested his head on Ron's shoulder.

"Do you still want to hurt me?" Carl asked. Ron hesitated in his answer. He took a breath to relax himself and let go of his disappointment and anger.

"No. I don't," He said.

"When you did, did you simply want to kill me?" Carl asked, continuing to question.

"Carl-"

"What did you want to do to me? How did you want to hurt me?" He asked.

"I wanted to push you to the ground. I wanted to punch you. I wanted to lash out like-" He tried to say. "Like my father used to."

Carl lifted his head from Ron's shoulder and Ron moved from Carl. He thought Carl was angry with him, but he saw a different emotion on his face. Carl put his hand gently on Ron's face and kissed his cheek.

"You have a power complex, Ron."

Ron and Carl were now upstairs with the others. The walkers had broke through into the first floor of the house, but they did not worry. Rick had a plan, like always. Just like Carl had said to begin with.

"You stay here," Rick said to Carl. "You see anyone squeezing through, you get me." He nodded to his father and then he was alone with Ron again. They were guards for the inhabitants of the second story of Jessie's house.

"We're gonna need bed sheets, enough for everyone," Rick said as he laid a walker's inactive body on the floor. He flicked out his knife.

"Bed sheets for what?" Jessie asked. Ron heard the conversation from the other side of the wall and he poked his head through the doorway to find out the answer to the question that was a response to a perplexing request.

"We'll all go to the armory," Rick said.

"How?" Jessie asked.

"We're gonna gut these things. Cover ourselves with the insides. It'll mask our smell, make them think we're like them. I've done it before. We stay calm, we don't draw attention, we can move right through them," Rick said.

Ron, for a moment, was disgusted. Rick must be crazy to do something so horrendous! But Carl's words struck a chord with him. If you know what you need to know and can do what you need to do, then you're as good as you need to be. This prompted Ron to abolish all feelings of disgust for a plan that could save his life; a plan that could save his family's lives.

"They're in the house. They're making noise," Michonne said. "More are coming. Anyone who stays here is gonna die." She then plunged her sword into a walker's back and cut right across it. Gabriel felt something rising in his stomach, a knot tying in his throat. Ron was indifferent, having all the encouragement he needed to get through this. He alone chose to be strong this time. He wondered,"Can I keep this up?"

"What about Deanna?" Gabriel asked. Rick looked at him and then stared off in thought. It ended up that Michonne would go upstairs to talk to her, and to end her life. She had gotten bit by a walker just before she got inside the house.

While she was upstairs, the rest of the gang had been putting on cut up bed sheets that had then been covered in blood and guts from bodies brought upstairs. Carl was one of the last ones to be covered. Michonne came down in time to finish covering him with blood. However, Rick, Ron, and Jessie had not started covering themselves at all. Jessie was appalled and Ron pretended to be to protect his mother's image of him. At least that is what he told himself when he finally did grow sick of the smell.

"We need to move," Rick said to Jessie. "You, then me." She looked down at him, knowing he would cover her in one of he most disturbing scents known to humankind. She would prefer to do it herself, she decided.

"I'll do it," she said. She would do what she had to. She had always done what she had to, whether it be getting hit herself instead of Ron or teaching Sam to hide upstairs in a locked closet. Sam...

"Mom?" Sam asked, suddenly frightened by the sight of humans crouched down in front of bloody corpses. They resembled the monsters... perhaps they had become monsters themselves?

Jessie panicked. How had she forgotten about her son this whole time? She was just caught up in the moment. She would have remembered.

"You need to listen to me, okay? We aren't safe here anymore. Okay, we need to do this so that we can be safe out there. We need to look like the monsters," She said to Sam.

"No, please, no," Sam said. Pure, childlike terror seemed to permanently scar his face at the very thought of looking like those things.

"Yes, honey, we have to go, okay? We have to, Sam. Honey, just- just pretend you're brave. Okay? Just make it all pretend. None of this is real and you're somebody who isn't afraid. Okay?" She told him. She was tearing up and she could hear it in her voice. What else could she tell him? How else could she ease his fears when she couldn't quiet her own? What was she supposed to say to her son? She pleaded in her mind that he would agree to it.

"Okay," he whispered.

Ron watched as his mother finished covering herself, and then as she covered him. She then took Sam into his room to cover him and talk with him some more.

Sam looked like he was going to burst into tears at first, but his face hardened as he spiraled deep into his thoughts. He told himself over and over. You are not afraid. You are brave. You can do this. Do this for Mom. Do this to stay alive. Do this for yourself, so you will stay alive. His mother's voice calmed him, even if he had accidentally drowned out her words.

"We have to go," Michonne said a while later. Ron and Carl looked at Michonne, who was talking to Rick and Gabriel. It was time.

Jessie and Sam came into view as she said back,"We're ready." Jessie was more secure with her son, Sam. Sam just might be able to do this. And she was still so scared, but she had faith in him. Yet she looked at Ron, who faced the floor with pursed eyebrows.

"Ron?" was all she needed to say to get her question across. She didn't want to undermine him and make him feel worse in some way. It reminded her of when Ron was younger, telling her that she had embarrassed him in front of his school friends by asking him if her "little baby was alright" after he fell on the soccer field when he was trying to score a goal. She had always been more discreet with anything similar since then.

"Yeah," was his reply. Yes, he could do this.

"I'll get Judith," Rick said. But Gabriel stopped him before he finished making his first step towards the nursery. He looked at him in confusion.

"Rick. I'm not gonna give up out there. I will not turn back, no matter what happens," he told Rick.

"Yeah, I know," he said plainly. Then he walked passed Carl and Ron and everyone. Ron's gaze followed Rick and then rested on Carl, who was beside him. Carl had been too kind to him, too forgiving. He would have to make it up to him. He had to make it up to himself.

And these were the types of thoughts that filled everyone's mind: you can do this, you have to do this, don't fuck this up! Everyone was telling themselves something to stay strong. Everyone except Rick, Carl, and Michonne. They had been through so much. There was no way the three of them would get hurt in this escape, if they were careful. Carl worried about Ron and his family. He worried about everyone else who wasn't with them in the house. Who else was alive? He would have to live to find out.

Rick came back with Judith and Jessie lifted Carl's sheet of blood and guts. Since Judith was always happy with Carl, him being her favorite person in the world (him being the person who spent the most time with her), it was not even debated over who would carry Judith. She was lowered into his careful arms, being cradled with cloth that held her secure in her place without needing Carl to hold her, and he looked at her face, which was underneath the sheet. He offered her a weak smile, which she returned a thousand times over. He smiled for real at that sight. He loved her so much, his little sister. Nothing was going to stop him from getting out of this alive with her.

Rick led everyone down the staircase and slowly he moved the couch out of the way. A walker looked at him and he looked back, but the gaze didn't last. The disguise was working. Rick led Carl who led Jessie who led Ron who led Sam and so on through the living room, painfully slow, and out the front door.

Once they were all outside, they stood together as Rick and Carl looked over the streets before them, looking for somewhere- anywhere that would offer them safety. Rick grabbed Carl's hand. Carl slowly offered his to Jessie, who accepted, and the hand-holding was distributed to every person. Jessie held Sam's hand, Sam held Ron's, and so on. They headed off and everything seemed to be going alright, but then someone cracked under the intensity of their dire situation.

"Mom," Sam said. "Mom. Mom," his voice getting louder each time. Ron's heart pumped violently at this, same with Jessie. She again was at a loss. How could she respond to him? He was scaring her, but then he stopped calling out to her and they continued to walk in silence. If any walkers had heard him, they did not show it. The gang followed Rick until he stopped and they all circled around him. There were walkers everywhere and it did not look like his original plan would work.

"All right, new plan," Rick said. "Flares from a few guns aren't enough. Too many walkers, too spread out. We're not going to the armory. We need our vehicles back at the quarry. All of us drive. We'll need to round 'em up. We leave, we come back."

"Okay. But Judith to the quarry and back- I-" Jessie said. Rick looked around, a common habit when he was thinking. Gabriel wanted to prove to Rick that he would not turn back, just like he said, to put his money where his mouth was, and so he figured he could take care of this problem.

"I'll take her," Gabriel said. Rick looked worriedly at him, unsure about the safety of his daughter. "I'll keep her safe in my church until you all lead the walkers away."

"Can you do this?" Michonne asked.

"I'm supposed to," he said back to her. She was concerned about Judith, too. Not just because she was a baby, but because she loved her. But Gabriel had confidence in his voice. She would bet that he would keep Judith safe. "I have to. I will."

"All right," Rick said as Carl turned to Gabriel. Carl lifted Judith carefully out from under his sheet, burning into his memory her face, which he might see for the last time. She turned her gaze from Carl to the walkers around her and she got scared, started making small noises. Gabriel made soft hushes to her, which calmed her down.

"Take Sam," Jessie said.

"No!" Sam protested.

"Yes, Sam, it'll be safer."

"I'm not leaving you- Mom, I'm not- I can keep going- I can keep going. Please. Please. Let's just go," he said. He wasn't afraid anymore. He could be strong. He wouldn't have to pretend anymore and his mother wouldn't have to worry about him. He was determined to prove himself, just like Gabriel. His mother looked around and then at him, her brows pursed in thought.

"Okay," she said finally. He would not give up, so she decided to have faith in him again. A silence fell upon the group and everyone was still. Jessie thought perhaps they were giving her time to change her mind.

"I'm going to keep her safe," Gabriel told Rick, breaking the silence.

"Thank you," Rick whispered. Gabriel nodded and then headed off slowly towards his church, hushing Judith to drown out the groans and rasps of the walkers surrounding them.

Michonne watched him walk away and a familiar feeling pitted her stomach. She remembered her own child and realized that Judith made her feel the same as her own did. Judith was her family. And so was Carl and Rick. What did she want? Deanna had told her to figure it out just before she left her to her die, by her request. She couldn't piece much together and she didn't try to. For now her biggest concern was protecting those she loved. She had to continue focusing. She went back to watching for suspicious walkers as the group talked.

At the same time, Rick was also watching Gabriel walk away. He was doing good so far, but Rick was spiraling down into a panic, and his face really showed it.

"He's gonna make it," Jessie told him. "Okay? I know it." Rick nodded, thankful for her reassurance. Deanna had given him advice, too. She said that her people were his people now. We never had a chance to make it like that, but that is the way it is. He knew this to be true, now, more than ever before.

"Sam," Rick said. He would protect them like he protected his own. They were his own. So he led the group once more, this time staying close to Sam.

As everyone began to follow him, Carl noticed that Ron was not moving and instead was staring hopelessly at all the walkers before them. He moved his hand near Ron's, catching his attention. Ron gave a side glance over to Carl's hand and took it, this time without embarrassment. He knew what he needed to do. As long as he could do it, he would stay level-headed, he thought.

The group walked through the sunset and into the night. Everyone held hands as they walked, staying strong for each other. Now that all the light had faded from the sky, an unsettling fear stirred up. The walkers' stares did not go unnoticed and their snarls and moving jaws caught Sam's attention.

"The monsters will come, and you won't be able to run away when they come for you, the ones out there. And they will tear you apart and eat you up all while you're still alive," Carol had told him once. Those words haunted him. And his fear got the better of him when he noticed a child walking alongside the biters, just as dead as they were. He let go of Rick's hand and stopped walking.

"Sam? Sam? Come on, come on. Sweetheart? Sam? You can do it. Yes, you can," Jessie said.

"Come on, Sam," Rick said.

"Sam hey, you can do this," Ron told his little brother. Sam, just look at Mom."

"Honey, you can do it. Sam, you're gonna get- Sam, honey, I need you to come with me. I need you to come with me," she pleaded to him. He started whimpering, drawing more attention to himself.

"I want to!" he said in a crying voice.

"I need you to be strong!" Jessie begged for a last time. Sam cried out as two walkers grabbed him and made his worst nightmare come true. He was being eaten alive. Jessie's eyes popped out and she began to cry as she watched her baby boy get eaten and she knew she could no longer save him. He was forever gone. And she screamed. She held tightly onto his hand, trying to do what little she could to make his situation better.

"Mom- mom!" Ron said.

"Jessie? Jessie, come with us, come on! We have to go!" Carl said to her. But walkers gained on her, too, and they began to devour her and she continued to scream. Rick looked upon his friend and her son as they both were being eaten and memories of Jessie filled his head. He would never know where they would have gone. She was gone.

"Dad!" Carl said, trying to get Rick's attention. Jessie was gripping Carl's arm and she wouldn't let go. "Dad! Dad?"

Rick raised his hatchet to save his son and brought it down again and again on Jessie's wrist, ignoring Ron's plea,"Don't!" Carl was released from her and he fell to the ground, quickly getting up as he and Rick tried to figure out what to do. Their cover had been blown. Carl looked to his father, at a loss for words, to discover that Rick was not looking at him. He was looking passed him.

Carl turned around and saw Ron raise his gun to him.

"You," he said. "You." Carl looked straight into Ron's eyes. Ron wasn't looking at Carl. He was going to shoot Rick. Before he could fire, Michonne plunged her sword through his gut. He pulled the trigger, but he fell to the ground.

Rick looked at Michonne, thankful to have her to protect him and their family. He nodded to her, knowing she did what she had to. Rick was deeply saddened, but his family would live. They were protected, he thought.

"Dad?" Carl asked, turning to see if his dad had been shot. Rick had not been shot. He was fine.

But he wasn't fine. "Carl!" he called out as his son fell onto the ground, blood oozing from the right side of his face, where he had been shot. "NO!" He picked up his son from the ground before the walkers could get to him. Michonne fell into a panic, but she kept a radius around her and Rick, killing any walker that approached them.

They ran to the closest thing they had to a hospital where Carl would have the best chance of survival. Rick didn't even have to open the door because Denise opened it for him. Michonne ran in after them, but Denise's attention was on Carl.

"This is a gunshot? Handgun. Close range," she said to herself.

"Please save him. Please," Rick begged.

"That's gonna draw them here," someone said, referring to a light that had been created. Michonne pulled the bloodied sheet off of Rick and then left him standing in a daze. "I need light. Michonne, towel. Hold it here. Okay, we need to keep pressure on the wound. I'll go in and sew up any lacerations. Just like that, right here. Now, Spencer, I need that pan. That one on the tray. Good. I'm going to clean and close this."

All the spoken words blurred and mixed in with the sound of walkers from outside. Carl had been shot again. He had been shot. And it was the fault of the walkers. The walkers that he had been trying to hide from destroyed everything. He was not going to hide anymore.

"Michonne, keep following me with the towel."

"What- what are you doing? Rick! Rick!" Michonne yelled. Rick, with his hatchet in hand, started getting vengeance for everything that had been taken away from him, and not just for tonight. For Lori, one was slain. For Dale, another. For Shane, a third. For Hershel and Beth. For Deanna and everyone else.

"Rick's out there!" Michonne said as she held the towel in place like Denise told her she had to.

"Hold on," she said back.

"He needs my help!" she said.

"Just one more suture."

"But he's out there!"

"This is his son. Give me a second," Denise stated. Michonne nodded and looked down at Carl. Rick and Carl were both in danger. She wouldn't forget that again.

"He's taking them all on. We have to go get him!" Aaron said.

"What?" Spencer asked.

"We have to," Heath said, siding with Aaron. "This is it."

"Okay, got it," Denise told Michonne. Michonne kissed Carl on his forehead before scurrying off after Rick to help him and protect him. He was a crazy man on a rampage and she needed to make sure he didn't get hurt. Aaron, Heath, and finally Spencer all ran out and followed Michonne.

Rick had taken out so many walkers, but he was getting too tired out to do it alone. Michonne ran to him and slayed a walker with a slice to its head, just stopping it from biting Rick in the back. The group of them, Michonne, Rick, Heath, Aaron, and Spencer, had formed a circled, their backs against each other, and they all continued to kill the very things that had trapped them for so long. They had to key to their cage the whole time and were too afraid to grab it.

Other residents of Alexandria saw them in the streets, banded together and fighting for everything they had, and knew they had to help. The residents ran outside and Rick shouted,"Knock 'em away! Drive 'em down! We can beat 'em. We can beat 'em! Drive 'em back!"

Gabriel watched from inside the church as the group fought relentlessly. He didn't have to stay inside. He could help them fight them off. They changed the plan and he would help with the new one. He would not be inactive. He would not be a burden. He would be an asset.

"Will you take her?" he said to a woman in the church.

"Of course," she said back. He handed her baby Judith and grabbed a machete. He headed for the door.

"Gabriel. What are you doing?" Tobin asked him. Gabriel looked at him and then addressed the people of the church.

"We've been praying together. Praying that God will save our town. Well, our prayers have been answered. God will save Alexandria because God has given us the courage to save it ourselves!"

And it was true. More and more of the residents ran out into battle, one even declaring he had to help, that this story was going to be told to their children. So they kept on fighting the invaders all through the night and to the dawn.


End file.
